Grey Man
by Tjin
Summary: There is a Grey Man in the magical world, what is his intentions and what does he have to do with the dark haired child of Prophecy?
1. Enter the Grey Man

I do not own Harry Potter.

123

The messy dark haired boy stared out into the bright morning sunshine of Godric's Hollow and took a deep breath, held in his hand was the long awaited for invitation to Hogwarts.

"Are you excited?"

Glancing up he smiled at the redhead that had stepped into the room after handling the mail owl "Of course Lily. Feels like I've been AAAGARGAMEL!" he yelped as Lily's hand snapped out like a striking Viper and caught his ear in a pincer grip.

Hissing in pain he turned slightly and froze, despite the nearly Cruciatus curse level pain, at the glare Lily had locked him with. "Sorry, I mean Mum," he said and sighed as she released his ear. She held the glare for a moment before turning back towards the kitchen.

"Go get your brother and we will head to Diagon Alley for your school things," Lily said causing the boy to roll his eyes before heading upstairs. Moving through the small magical household, he forced the memories down and away of the last time he was here.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside and locked eyes with the small bundle of drool and poop that was currently dancing in the crib without the benefit of music. After a time spent glaring at his hated enemy, the boy stepped up and glared down at the infant "Hello Potter!" He hissed before reaching up to touch his nemeses.

"TOM! ARE YOU STARING AT HARRY AGAIN?"

Sighing in defeat at his adopted mother's odd ability to know what he was doing, Tom Riddle/Potter stepped over and picked up the boy and set him on his hip. "I hate prophecies," he whispered to the infant before turning to go back downstairs.

As he went down the stairs, Tom let his mind drift back to his arrival in his current situation. After his fateful battle in the damaged castle of Hogwarts, he had activated one of his earlier attempts at immortality, a type of advanced time turner that was supposed to send him back to the most influential moment of his life. He had expected to find himself back in the orphanage staring at the letter Dumbledore had delivered to him, careful crafting of the spell had used the power of the now dead universe to regress him to the proper age.

Unfortunately the spell had not accounted for his splintered soul and the strength of the prophecy. As such, he had been cast out of the time stream, in a much younger body and much too far forward in the timeline.

To be specific, he had ended up as a ten year old in the end days of nineteen seventy nine.

The first few days he had been nearly catatonic as his mind worked to settle the mental stress from the time jump combined with the feedback of his soul parts rejoining him.

One thing was sure; he was certainly different from his original self.

Apparently during his time as a vegetable, he had been discovered and saved by the young medi-witch Lily Potter. Upon waking, and the discovery that he was without family or resources, the redhead had concocted an entire scenario where he was the sole survivor of an attack by dark wizards before she had insisted on saving the young whelp from the dark loneliness of his life.

Stepping into the main room, Tom endured Lily's mothering as she made sure her boys were ready for their trip out into the world.

Lily was so proud of him already, for a moment he wondered if his birth mother would have cared as much. Given what he knew of her and what he had seen of his Grandfather and uncles, he would have had to say no.

A brief flash of memory of the fiery redhead standing defiantly in front of his wand before a bright green light ended her existence went through Tom's mind. Refusing to let the thought dominate his life, Tom shifted Harry around so Lily could take him.

Glancing over at the newpaper on the table, Tom frowned darkly at the headline proclaiming another successful raid of 'You-Know-Who.' Tom held no doubt about what his alternate would do if he managed to get ahold of him.

The sad fact of the matter was that torture and death were the only things awaiting him if he sought his other self out. No, it would be far better to crush his other side and take his place as a hero of the wizarding world.

First things first though, he needed a wand. Once he had that, he could self-transfigure himself into a more appropriate form to battle the dark forces.

As Lily threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire, Tom smiled at the thought of what was to come. He would need to make one hell of an entrance though.

123

Tumbling out of the fireplace in Diagon Alley, ass over teakettle, Tom swore dark and unending vengeance against the abhorrent mode of travel. The boy made a mental note to do away with them entirely if he ever changed his mind and became a dark lord again.

Taking a moment to let his head stop spinning, he couldn't help but glare as Lily stepped out of the fireplace with a grace that he simply didn't possess, even worse was Harry giggling happily at the sudden rush of magical travel.

The giggling baby was another sore point on his eventual rise to Dark Lord-dom. He was pretty sure the prophecy was still in effect, if the stupid thing didn't take him being disintegrated in a backfiring Death Curse as fulfilled, he was willing to bet that him getting punt kicked back in time wouldn't affect it a whole hell of a lot either.

Of course since the prophecy was about, 'The Dark Lord' and he was most notably absent of both Darkness and Lordness he may have dodged that bullet entirely.

With a grunt, Tom forced himself to his feet and with barely a glare at his new nemesis, turned towards the still giggling Lily. "Am I to assume that James will not be joining us this afternoon?" He asked trying to put the whole situation behind him.

With a last snort, Lily let the boy maintain what little dignity remained and accepted the change of subject. "He's patrolling the alley today, but he promised to meet us for lunch" she explained before bumping him with her hip and giving him a mock glare. "And you know you can call him Dad right?"

Rolling his eyes as they passed through into Diagon Alley, Tom refused to sigh at the old argument. "While you are fine with such an arrangement and I dare say James would be as well, I must once again state that I would find the situation," he paused for a moment as he sought out the correct word before he continued "Awkward on my part."

It was an argument that the two had gotten into a half dozen times, and while he was slowly but surely coming to accept the inevitable fact that he would be required to address Lily as 'Mum' in the near future, he couldn't bring himself to call James Potter 'Dad.'

Tom rolled his eyes as he was pulled into a hug by the redhead as she mumbled something about boys and puberty that had the one time feared Dark Lord shuddering in terror as he realized that he would probably have to sit through  
'The Talk,' once again.

Desperate to avoid such a fate, Tom allowed himself to be pulled towards Ollivander's by a rather giddy Lily Potter as she chattered on and on about all the wonderful things he was going to be able to do once he had a wand.

Stepping into the small shop, Tom let a smile tug at his lips as he remembered the first time he had been here, the feeling of power he had felt as he grasped the phoenix feather and yew wand that had seen his meteoric rise to power in later years.

Glancing around, Tom's eyes met the grey orbs of Garric Ollivander and felt a light brush across his carefully crafted mental shields before it passed him by.

"Aah, Lily Potter, Ten and a quarter inch Willow, swishy with a Unicorn hair core, one of my better charm wands if I do say so myself," Ollivander said with a pleasant smile as Lily let her thumb run across the softwood she had purchased so many years before.

"Correct as always Mr. Ollivander, and she is just as good now as the day I got her," Lily said pleasantly before she pulled Tom over and carefully smoothed down his hair. "These boys are Tom and Harry, and while Harry has a few years yet before he gets his own wand I suppose it's time for Tom to get his as he's gotten his Hogwarts letter."

Tom had never understood people's need to attribute gender to their wands, most of them declaring the tools to be female. Of course, having seen the care Lily took of her wand, he could almost understand it now. Perhaps if he had been able to keep his wand during the summer months while he was younger, he would have had a greater emotional connection to it.

In short order, Tom was being measured and prodded by the wand crafter. A series of wands were pulled out and set aside based on whatever arcane knowledge the old man had divined from the width between his nose or the length of his eyebrow hair. When nearly half a dozen options were finally presented, Tom smiled as he reached for his first option.

"Fourteen inches, hickory and dragon heartstring, firm with an excellent curse strength," Ollivander offered only to frown as the small stick exploded into a shower of silver pearls that rained down across the shop floor.

Shaking his head, the old man reached for another wand only for the unicorn hair and teak wand to shoot out of its box and disappear deep into the bowels of the shop before Tom could even touch it. "Most peculiar," he grumbled before adjusting his stock slightly. "I get the sneaking suspicion I should avoid unicorn all together with you." He grumbled before pulling a couple extra boxes to him from the back.

In the course of the next hour, Tom learned that he was borderline impossible to find a proper wand for, Phoenix and Unicorn responding poorly and most of the woods shattering under his touch as the wand crafter frowned in consternation.

"Apollyon wing and Freelings Oak," he grumbled as Tom took up the eighty seventh wand of the day as the old man sulked petulantly behind the counter "If it's not this one I'll have to craft one to you special."

Thankfully Tom felt the rush of energy as he picked up the brown fifteen inch stick and with a swish that had a half dozen buzzing locust the size of pigeons appearing and sitting along the counter's edge.

Snorting at the insects, Ollivander shook his head before he began to explain, "Fifteen inches even, firm, one of the more dangerous dueling wands I've ever made and especially attuned to spiritual energy."

He looked down at the dark haired boy carefully, "You have a destiny of conflict if that wand has anything to say about it." He warned before the craftsman then turned his smile to Lily, "that will be Eighteen Galleons even."

Stepping out of the rather creepy store Tom held the wand in his hand carefully as he considered all the doors that were open to him now, the trace was gone before they had left the store and Tom had free access to his magic once more.

Now if only he knew what he was going to do with it, Standing in the middle of Diagon Alley as Lily talked about all the awesome things he was going to do Tom felt somewhat like a dog that had finally gotten the car, as he was pulled towards the bookshop to get his required reading for first year students Tom glanced up at the happy redhead that had done so much to save his life and even opened her home up to him when he needed it.

Certainly he could go on a killing rampage and overthrow the magical world, but he would have to kill her if he did that, and while he had the memories of many deaths and even a rather pervasive memory of killing her himself Tom found that given the situation he was less willing to act on the dark whispers that had seduced him the first time around.

He actually felt. Loved.

Tom shuddered as he realized that the old coot had possibly been right in his mad 'Power of love' ramblings, taking a deep breath Tom let his wand shift in his hand before a silent Confundus charm hit his adopted mother sending her off with the thought that he was picking up some quills and ink and would meet her at Madam Malkins.

As she disappeared among the crowd Tom slipped away into an side alley, he let out a deep breath and began to work, back before he had been feared Tom had needed to make a name for his other self, that required a bit of showmanship all things considered, a skill he had little need of once he had returned.

Slipping into a dark alley Tom let his magic flow through him, self-transfiguration had been a skill mastered by Gellert Grindelwald back during his rise to power and Tom had spent countless hours researching how the man had did that during his first rise to power.

Adding a foot and a half of height Tom returned himself to his old size, a slim fighters build as his hair shifted from the jet black he wore now to a light grey, pulling it back into a ponytail, his facial features shifted as well, aging him to his mid-twenties even as Tom waved his wand over himself and let his magic flow, his rather common jeans and shirt were changed to a pair of grey dress pants black shirt and grey vest that he draped a black leather trench coat over.

A grey fedora and a faceless mask finished off the look, as he stood in the alleyway counting down the minutes Tom smiled, he had fashioned the look off the MACUSA agents he had seen from the twenties, agents that had stood against the first dark lords rise to power.

As the clock in the middle of the Ministry of Magic struck ten Tom felt the anti-apparition wards pop up around the alley, at the far end Lord Voldemort and a half dozen of his followers appeared in a flash of light and began casting dark spells at the suddenly panicked crowd.

Tom knew that his other had shown up today in an attempt to silence the ever dangerous Prewitt brothers, the two of them had stood against his first rise to power and his old self had made a public example out of them.

With a flick Tom was surrounded by an explosive mixture of gases and fine copper mist, with a twist he was through the anti-apparition wards he had once put up, it was time to put on a show.

123

Gideon Prewitt cursed as he dodged a second dark curse and threw up another shield to cover his brothers back, the dark thrice damned dark wanker had shown up not even a minute before and had the whole damn alley cut off yet there he stood, as bold as brass as five of the cowards put every effort they could into cutting he and his brother down, the last of the man's lackeys standing by the dark lord's side, probably ready to lick his boots.

His cursing and curses were cut off as a flash of light and a roar of thunder heralded the arrival of a new player on the field.

Glancing over as a man in grey stepped out of a bright green fireball Gideon felt a momentary surge of hope, when the attack first started he had tried to apparate out of the alley only to be blocked, if this new fighter could blast through that then they might actually have a chance.

Entering the fight Gideon smiled as a flash of yellow light hit one of the death eaters and sent the man down in a screaming heap as he clawed as his masked face in pain, shifting around a curse sent his way Gideon back Fabian up as they both hit one of the distracted death eaters with a bone splitter curse, dropping another one of their opponents before they went back on the defensive.

As they blocked a trio of bludgeoning curses the eldest Prewitt brother watched as a hand of stone shot out of a nearby wall and negligently crushed the far right death eaters head, a quick cutting curse from his own wand caught the man's partner in the gut sending him screaming to the ground as he struggled to keep his insides on his insides.

Smiling darkly at the fuming dark lord Gideon watched as his brother sent a bolt of lightning out of his wand that blasted the last attacking death eater crashing and smoking into reinforced wall of the magical menagerie.

In a moment all movement seemed to cease, the two Prewitts and the grey man stood against the dark lord and his last follower, the only sound was the muffled screams of the two fallen but not yet dead death eaters.

Idly Gideon wondered what that first spell had been, he had seen death eaters hit with bone breaker curses not flinch, the dark lords habit of 'toughening them up' through cruciatus exposure apparently worked very well to make the man's shock troops all but ignore pain.

Whatever the man had used though the death eater was still screaming, for a brief moment Gideon considered simply stunning the man to silence him before he shrugged the thought off, if he had his way the man would stop screaming when he was dead.

123

Standing before his old self Tom let his gaze drift over the man he had once become, nothing like his resurrected form he had once been good looking and capable, he had class and style.

What the hell had happened to him.

Once again making a mental note to avoid splitting his soul Tom stared at his other self he had to admit that he cut in imposing figure, the dark robes and silver immortal mask had made all but the strongest foes quake in fear.

Even with the masks though there was something decidedly off about his original self, like an out of tune note in a symphony, it called to him to either fix it, or destroy it,

Tom was currently sitting firmly in the 'Destroy it with fire' side of the argument.

Here and now though, Tom was going for something a little bit different.

With a half wave a dozen anti-apparition wards sprung up over the originals, Voldemort took this as a signal and with a dark curse the battle was joined.

A shift of his feet and a wave of his wand sent the still screaming death eater sailing up to intercept the dark curse before a barrage of spells pinned the dark lord in place.

Out of the corner of his eye Tom saw the two Prewitt boys pound the last of Voldemort's followers for several seconds before a misstep caused the blond pompous ass to catch a cutting curse to sever the man's arm at the wrist.

Shifting the flow of battle Tom sent a trio of charms at the nearby rubble turning a pile of rocks into a half dozen small stone imps that charged the dark lord in silent glee.

Turning to the shocked form of Lucius Malfoy Tom hit the man with a rather painful withering curse before following it up with a stunner.

Win, Lose or Draw Malfoy would be outed after this.

Standing tall with the Prewett brothers as they traded spells with the Dark Lord for several minutes Tom focused on countering his originals spells, shielding and blocking what he could as they waited for support as the Aurors and DMLE rushed the scene Tom watched impassively as his old self snarled a dark curse at him before activating a portkey and whisking the dark lord away.

As the DMLE surrounded him Tom carefully held his wand up by the tip and watched as the idiots shouted a flurry of conflicting And contradictory orders at him and the two brothers for several long minutes before a rough form shoved his way through the crowd.

"What's all this then? A half dozen scum on the ground and you rookies are standing around shouting? Get to work, I want the downed identified and bagged before the director gets here or i'll have your hides" Alastor Moody snarled darkly and sent the younger Aurors into a flurry of action "Willet, Pew, Round up witnesses and get statements, Fletcher you are to intercept any reporter stupid enough to stick their heads out and keep them away from the scene, there will be no photos but if they want a statement you can tell them to kiss my ass." He snarled and sent the three men off before he turned to the men that had stood up to the dark lord and frowned. Two of them he knew, the Prewitt brothers had stood beside him in battle at least twenty times over the years even now they were founding members of the order of the Phoenix and were no doubt the target of this particular raid.

The other man was different, younger certainly but aged beyond his years, the faceless illusion he had on was certainly intimidating, with a wave he had two senior Aurors take the two brothers off to collect their statements before he stepped up to the faceless man himself. "Me names Senior Auror Alistor Moody, third, July the nineteen eighty, interviewing unknown wizard involved in a dark arts fight in Diagon Alley approximately ten minutes before," the senior Auror stated in a loud and clear manner so any pensieve review later could be easily identified before he turned to Tom with a raised eyebrow "so what all this then? Who are you and what was your part in all this?" He growled as he stepped far enough away to not be interrupted and after a moment indicated that the man could lower his wand.

Reaching up Tom carefully removed the mask to help put the old warrior more at ease before smiling pleasantly "My name, such as it may be, is Thomas Grey. My business is my own, but suffice to say I am a spell researcher from the Americas." Tom Explained before glancing back at the body strewn street "As for my involvement in this little kerfuffle, that was merely limited to the abject destruction of three of the attackers and the assistance in capturing a fourth." Tom expounded before he waved towards the alley that had been the scene of the fight.

"I witnessed seven individuals arrive and both Portkey and Apparition wards pop into place before they started firing off dark curses into the crowd, I took offense to this and considered it my civic duty to assist, I stepped in to put a stop to it, when five of them were busy with the two gentlemen I found a weak spot in the wards and apperated to their flank before casting a 'zub-za-puls' spell from the eastern Mediterranean," at the Aurors look Tom shrugged "it was originally used to assist with dental work but fell out of favor due to the rather tight control needed to keep the teeth from exploding in the patient's head, with the might that I used I would be surprised if the man had a single tooth left in his head, I've found it to be a useful opening gambit and it is almost guaranteed to take your opponent out of the fight."

At the scarred Aurors snort Tom shrugged, "Needless to say this took some of the pressure off my two comrades in arms and together we managed to press our advantage until the late but ever so helpful arrival of your men caused the leader to break and run."

"And how did ya get through the Anti-Apparition wards? Tales say they are all but unbreakable?" Moody asked and took the man's snort of derision without offense.

"While I admit it was quite impressive for him to think up layering a rather obscure Pandamanian ward under an ICW standard retention ward, and while it would seem unbreakable if you weren't aware of it, it's actually more annoying than anything else once you know what you're looking for." Tom said with a smile before shrugging "fortunately I had a small spot of trouble down that way a few years back and managed to figure out the secret to it, as an aside note the Magical community of Panama takes a dim view on being pants-less in public."

Blinking in shock as the man uncovered one of the more annoying aspects of the dark lords abilities Moody made a mental note to get with a few associates he had in South America and find out if what he said was true. "So you're not a MakUSA?" Moody questioned as he knew the Magical law Enforcement of America wore a very similar get up

Shaking his head Tom forced himself not to scowl as Moody's eye swept over him again, "No, I've certain worked with them enough but I am a freelancer of sorts."

Shrugging Moody simply turned back to the scene of the cleanup that was still ongoing "Well if you should find yourself face to face with those sorts again I'd recommend you doing just what you did today," he snarled before stomping off to yell at the rookies that were still fumbling about about like virgins in a Veela whore house at the sight of the bodies.

At the sight of Bartimus Crouch Senior storming up with Dumbledore and his adopted father Tom made a half turn and disappeared with a pop.

Now he just had to keep Lily off of the war path and convince her he had been safe.

To be honest the reformed Dark Lord would rather face down the Death Eaters again.

123

(A/n) So this is a Tom Riddle-Potter story, I've seen a lot of Time Travel stories that throw Harry or one of the others back, but I was wondering what a 'Dumbledor' time travel fic would look like, that broke away into a 'What would a Moody Time Travel' fic look like?

unfortunately those get a bit long in the tooth as i try to explain the why's and hows of the time travel and they never got off the ground...

so here you are, a sane and rational Tom Riddle being raised next to his Nemesis thanks to time travel and a Prophecy.

and yes Tom uses 'gargamel' as a curse word...


	2. grey Man - Nine Point Seven Five

(A/N) I've had a lot of people try and claim that my Tom was an OP Gary Stu.

Are you people serious? He is LORD FREAKING VOLDEMORT! OF COURSE HE IS OP AS HELL! THAT IS THE FREAKING POINT OF THE CHARACTER! HE FOUGHT AGAINST DUMBLEDORE WITH THE DEATH STICK WHEN HE WAS USING AN UNDERPOWERED WAND!

So Yes, Tom is OP as hell, that is a fact of his character.

This has been a public service announcement.

* * *

This was it. The end. His first step on the next great adventure. The final curtain call, the fat lady had sung, darkness had fallen and his number was punched. The last great farewell, his great bitter end, his judgement day had arrived. The greatest calamity of life, his downfall was at hand, little specks of black and white were dancing at the corners of his eyes as hypoxia set in.

 _Far, far away he could hear the dulcet tones of Billy Boyd as he crooned;_

 _Night is now falling_

 _So ends this day_

 _The road is now calling_

 _And I must away_

 _Over and under tree_

 _Through lands where never light has shown_

 _By_ silver _streams that down to the sea._

"Lily, he's turning purple, I don't think he can breathe."

With a gasp of life giving air Lily released Tom who desperately tried to drag the oxygen into his lungs from the crushing hug that his adopted mother had caught him in.

Glancing up at the smirking form of Sirius Black as the man fiddled with a radio, Tom sent him a grateful thumbs up. The older man chuckled and changed the station again.

Lily pulled the boy into a much gentler hug before she set about messing with his hair as she interrogated him with one arm holding the young Harry on her hip.

"Where were you? What happened? Are you hurt? I knew I should have never let you out of my-."

Realizing that his adopted mother may lock him down until he left for Hogwarts, Tom dove into damage control as he waved his hand to cut off the redheads train of thought. "It was fine Li- Mum," he caught himself as he felt the glare that his adopted mother was preparing before she calmed.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself Tom looked out the window at the bustling alley from the room Sirius had rented them after the attack "I saw the spells flying and suddenly I was back there and… I couldn't..." Tom trailed off the second time as he let Lily's mind fill in the blanks for her concocted back story. She pulled him into a hug again. Squeezing him tightly as her mothering instincts kicked into high gear and he once more began to lose oxygen in her grip.

This was it. The end. His first step on the next great adventure. The final curtain call, the fat lady had sung, darkness had fallen and his number was punched. The last great farewell, his great bitter end, his judgement day had arrived. The greatest calamity of life, his downfall was at hand, little specks of black and white were dancing at the corners of his eyes as hypoxia set in.

Far, far away he could hear the dulcet tones of Billy Boyd as he crooned.

 _Night is now falling_

 _So ends this day_

 _The road is now calling..._

Lily let the deathlock she had on him break as she spun towards Sirius with a scowl, "Sirius Black, is that the only song that stupid box can play?" She growled as Sirius continued to fiddle with it absently.

"It shouldn't even play that, the bloody song hasn't been written yet," the head of the house of Black said with a scowl as he shook the box back and forth trying to get it to change tunes.

As the two began to squabble about the radio that was hellbent on playing an unwritten song, Tom silently lifted Harry up and slipped away from the two. He knew from past experience that Lily would soon become annoyed with the box and attempt to destroy it, Sirius would desperately try and protect his toy. Spells would fly and the room would very quickly devolve into a warzone that would put many of the Death Eater raids to shame.

The addition of James, Remus or Peter would see a good portion of the house and neighborhood involved.

The only time the Longbottoms and Tonks families had joined in, Tom had been subjected to a three hour stay in St. Mungo's spell recovery ward. He'd had to listen to Minister Bagnold scream at them about the Statute of Secrecy violation and how she now needed to create a task force to combat the sentient rocks that had escaped containment.

That of course had led the older woman into a rant about the 'Pet Rock' Crisis of seventy-five. Tom had tuned her out as his mind set to work on a work around for the Golem gambit his older self had run into when he was younger.

Stepping around the corner as a bright flash of non-light unlit the room, Tom carried the giggling child towards the extra room Lily had rented to put him down for a nap. Setting his one time nemesis down in his bed, Tom glanced at the small clay Jester he had crafted soon after that fateful day. He could feel the toy scan the room for adults before the masked toy came to life and began to move under its own power as the small clay jester danced and cavorted around the room for the child's pleasure.

Leaving the giggling toddler to his own devices, Tom slipped across to his own section of the room and carefully ignored the explosions coming from below as he began to work on his plans for the coming days.

* * *

Lying in his bed later that night, Tom multitasked. He shored up his mental defenses as he carefully finished his simulacra and with a whispered incantation in ancient Babylonian, the small doll grew to his current dimensions and sat blinking owlishly on his bed.

With a wave, the puppet was clothed and lying in the place Lilly would expect him to be should she check.

Slipping past the detection wards on the window was child's play for him and in moments he was out in the chill of the pre-September night. Tom moved quietly away from the small cottage before he could apparate without being heard.

Most people didn't really know themselves. They knew the image they put up to mask their own insecurities and fears, that was why most people froze in the face of a threat. A lifetime of imagining what you would do in a dangerous situation shattered in an instant when you were suddenly faced with your own mortality.

Tom, however, was well aware of who and what he had been. A monster made flesh, he had nothing but his own thoughts for a decade the last time around. That kind of reflection could lead to either great understanding or madness. Thankfully, he had been quite mad already, the time had merely given him an understanding of his madness.

By thwarting his old self, Voldemort would be forced to escalate his attack so he wouldn't be seen as 'bested.'

A muggle town or half bloods house wasn't going to cut it. It had to be big and it had to make a splash. The only two options, really, at this time of the year were the ministry of magic or the Hogwarts express. Anything else and he would have to wait.

Of the two, the Ministry would be better, but far better defended. The Hogwarts express though, was just about perfect. The purebloods always arrived early to get the best seats, with only a few notable exceptions to that stereotype that meant that the platform would be filled with half bloods and muggle borns for the last thirty minutes before the train left.

Appearing with a crack near Kings Cross station, Tom let his 'Grey Man' form take over as he moved through the nearly empty London street. A quick confundus charm on the nearby member of London's finest and he was through the barrier and into the platform proper.

A quick scan of the empty platform for any witnesses and Tom set to work. A half dozen, buried brick and cobblestone simulacra with a notice me not enchantment on them would give him a bit more flexibility in a fight as they began to absorb geomantic energy. Couple that with some defensive wards and he had made a good start.

* * *

Several day later Tom glanced around the station with a slight frown. James and Lily had gotten him up good and early to make sure he made it on time, with only a slight detour to St. Mungo's. That was to heal up the spell damage James had received when Lily had caught the older male joking about disowning Tom should he end up in Slytherin. The fact that Tom could tell that the older male was joking was a massive difference from his original timeline.

Pasting on a forced smile as Lily gave him a kiss to the top of his head and ruffled his hair, Tom squared his shoulders and marched towards the train with a determined air. Glancing around, he was surprised at how few people were at the station at this time as his previous experience indicated that the platform should be all but packed with snooty purebloods jockeying for position and mocking the incoming Mudbloods by now.

Entering the train, Tom quickly took his place in one of the rear cars before casting several, subtle, privacy charms. With a grin, he pulled out the shrunken body of the doll that was housing his simulacrum before casting its activation spell and ordering it to sit quietly in the corner and pretend to read. It would ignore all but the most determined inquisitors and simply stare until its harasser got uncomfortable and left. Having his cover in place Tom let his Grey Man personna take over as he slipped off the train.

Moving silently through the crowd, he took up position near the entrance to the portal and slowly let his security charms fade away. Tom was surprised at how quickly his presence was noticed with both James and Lilly, taking note of his position quickly as well as half a dozen other pairs of eyes.

Noticing the more attentive members on the platform, Tom took a deep breath to calm his nerves as several of them began to orbit closer to him. Most he could tell were curious but one or two obviously had more sinister thoughts on their minds. He readied himself for a surprise attack, his senses honed over decades of combat and reinforced through profane rituals in his previous life made him all but impervious to-

With a tangled rush, his vision blurred and he found himself trapped. After a short struggle, he realized that this was it, the end, his first step on the next great adventure, the final curtain call, the fat lady had sung, darkness had fallen and his number was punched. The last great farewell, his great bitter end, his judgement day had arrived. The greatest calamity of life, his downfall was at hand and little specks of black and white were dancing at the corners of his eyes as hypoxia set in.

 _Far far away he could hear the dulcet tones of Billy Boyd as he crooned;_

 _Night is now falling_

 _So ends this day_

 _The road is now calling_

 _And I must away_

 _Over and under tree_

 _Through lands where never light has shown_

 _By_ silver _streams that down to the sea._

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK WILL GET RID OF THAT INFERNAL BOX!"

Gasping for air as Lily released him to attack Sirius Tom blinked several times as he tried to back up, only to be latched onto by Lily again, grabbing him by the arm this time the redhead smiled brightly as she jerked him across the station with a shout as she moved to introduce the, 'Savior of her Little Tom Cat' to her friends and acquaintances.

People she had met once at a dinner, random strangers that were passing by, a rather surly homeless bloke that had wandered onto the platform in a drunken stupor and had not yet been obliviated. All forced to hear her tale.

Apparently standing up to his old self made him a bit of a celebrity in the eyes of the common people. Surprisingly enough, he was almost fifteen minutes in before he realized that Lily had handed Harry off to one of her friends and was carefully using the introductions and general conversation to pry little bits of information from him. She had quickly determined several points of interest in his back-story that Mad Eye Moody had missed during the Auror's initial interview.

Tom's initial attempt at deflecting the conversation away from himself was rather professionally blocked by James and Sirius. The two men had taken up flanking positions, just in case he had responded poorly to the subtle questioning Lily was managing.

Finally drawing to a stop, Tom waited for the redhead to turn towards him before he raised an eyebrow expectantly. "I believe I've been quite forthcoming enough Mrs. Potter. Would you mind explaining your interrogation or should your two brutes stun me now and we can move on to the waterboarding?"

Blushing at being called out, Lily grumped as she crossed her arm and turned to verbally square off against him, "Very well then, Mister Grey, I want to know what spells you used, where you learned them and where you came from. You managed to stand off against the dark lord and people capable of doing that don't exactly grow on trees."

Tom sighed at her demanding tone and rubbed his eyebrows, careful to keep from scowling.

"As I told Master Moody when he interviewed me, the initial spell was the Zub-Za-Puls spell from the Mediterranean," he explained before Sirius interrupted his story with a snort.

"So we've heard, yet so far the only evidence we have of that is a short description of it in one of the more obscure spell books of my family's library. How did you come across such a mysterious spell?" he challenged as Tom rolled his eyes at the posturing.

"Most likely in much the same way your ancestor came to know about it," he explained before giving the man a disarming grin. "I found someone who knew it and bought them a drink."

Lily snorted at that, drawing the attention back to herself as James and Sirius swapped sides behind him to throw him off should this turn into a fight even as Tom kept himself in a calm state despite the aggressive stance the trio were showing him. "And that's all it took, did it? Just waltz in and buy someone a drink?"

"No, Mrs. Potter, it took a great many drinks. Learning how to speak the Amazigh dialect of Kabyle, several rather expensive dinners and one rather steamy rendezvous in a seedy back alley of Bgayet, followed soon after by a running battle with the local Mágos. They had assumed, for reasons I cannot fathom, that I was attempting to steal state secrets rather than feeding my desire for cultivating ancient magics," he explained before he adjusted his vest and looked away with a huff. "And if you must know, I was cleared in absentia of those charges after the Mágos uncovered a dark artifact smuggling ring due to my adventures."

At their startled blinks, Tom smiled when he realized that the, rather over the top, story was working on them as even the most insane con men would be hesitant to name something as easily verified as that.

To his credit, the situation had actually happened, though the man in question had been the leader of the smuggling operation and Tom's older self had killed the man to keep his connection to the artifact smuggling ring a secret. Still, it made for an easily verifiable story that led some gravitas to his name.

"So you're what? Some magical, American James Bond?" Lily challenged with a smirk.

Tom scowled playfully, his time around the world had opened his eyes to plenty of stereotypes. He had been surprised to learn that the disdain most of the British Isles felt at being compared to a colonial was not reciprocated by the Americans or Canadians, although the Kiwi's and Aussies seemed to get a bug up their noses at the comparison. Still, it was expected that they would and he was more than willing to play the part, at least in jest. "Please, nothing so dry. I see myself more as the Napoleon Solo sort, or perhaps a more roguish Han Solo, if necessary."

He could feel the confusion from the two males behind him as Lily burst out laughing at the claim before she managed to get herself under control.

"Harrison Ford you're NOT" she declared with a snicker before bursting out laughing again at his pout.

Tom, for his part, was amazed that he could play the role of the put upon male in this life where he would have been hard pressed to control a murderous rage in his past. Of the two, he found himself far more pleased with his current situation, rather than the blind fear of his previous life.

With a sigh he turned back to the two men and rolled his eyes "She is going to be like this for the rest of the day isn't she," he asked and took their nods of male solidarity in stride. He then tapped the top of the box Sirius held in his hand and changed the tune to a rather jaunty Christmas jingle. "Matryoshka boxes require a tap with a slight crosswise twist to change them to a modern frequency and a double tap to the corner will return it to its holding tune," he said before pushing past the two men as he headed back towards the train.

Thankfully, the trio were stunned enough that his confundus on the three worked and he managed to slip back towards the train without further trouble.

That should have been his first clue that something was wrong, senses long honed by battle and surviving at the top of a heap filled to the brim with self serving and opportunistic monsters snapped into sight as a grey mist seemed to fill the far side of the station.

Cursing himself for being out of position, Tom snapped his wand out towards the attackers and with a push activated his preplanned contingencies. With a thought, a quartet of stone slabs raised themselves up from the concrete of the landing, blocking the first salvo of magic and giving the defenders a brief moment to gather their wits for the sudden attack.

For a brief moment, Tom's mind drifted back to this day nearly twenty years earlier, riding high from his success in removing the Prewitt brothers, his old self had set his sights on the brother and niece of one Minerva McGonagall. He'd killed the man, his wife and daughter as they boarded the train.

Ignoring the memory, Tom slashed his wand to the right and with a push, sent the massive stone plinths spinning towards the dozen Death Eaters that had joined his old self on the platform.

With a detached eye, he watched as four of his once faithful followers were crushed trying to undo the conjuring charm they thought he had used, a valid idea but Tom's setting of the stage earlier in the week meant that the stone was real, formed by ancient geomancy that while slow to get started had a habit of being difficult to stop once they had been.

With a pop, the remainder of the strike force disapparated only to reappear several dozen feet to the sides. For his own, older self and the two followers that he had pulled along with him, this put now bloody rubble between them and the majority of the station itself. For the remaining half dozen they appeared before the wands of a good percentage of the magical adults of Britain, adults that were no longer shocked and surprised, but angry at the masked terrorists for daring to attack their children.

Tom blinked as a rather sour faced old man made a cutting motion and two of the Death Eaters collapsed in a screaming heap as their skeletons transmigrated three feet to the left.

Swallowing back the bile he felt as the twin sacks of meat began to crush themselves without a supporting framework Tom made a mental note to keep an eye out for the old timer, a victim chalked up as merely collateral damage last time, that spell had been believed to be lost after the fall of Grindelwald and Tom was eager to find out how it had been secreted away.

With a snap Tom felt the anti-apparition wards drop only for a new set to take their place. This time a rather unique, triple ward that combined the British Auror ward with the aforementioned pandamanian ward and a rather interesting armenian version.

A glance back showed his adopted mother sweating as she held her wand up easily declaring herself to be the source of the interference.

Not that the Death Eaters had much chance to capitalize on that realization as Voldemort and two of his followers were still stuck behind a small mountain of immovable rock and the four at the front were valiantly fighting off the combined assaults of Sirius Black, James Potter, Robert McGonagall and the wild flailing of a geriatric wizard that seemed far more interested in animating the two fallen skeletons into dancing atop their one time flesh prison as he cackled.

With a shrug, Tom tossed a small handful of pebbles towards the quartet of death eaters. He smiled as they ignored the rather paltry attack, a mistake they would not live long enough to learn from as the lightning runes carefully inscribed onto the stones sent a bolt of crackling electricity through those still standing, dropping their shields and leaving them open to a rather sudden barrage of well placed cutting curses.

It was a trick he had theorized about in the last timeline, after one of his followers had fallen afoul of a muggle with a 'tazer' of all things.

Turning towards his old self, Tom watched as the, 'Dark Lord' grabbed the last two members of his strike team. The man crashed through the anti-apparition wards, substituting brute strength for the more subtle and delicate forms that he, himself, preferred.

Shaking his head at his own idiocy from before, Tom turned back and stared as the old codger danced about happily atop the still flopping bags of meat. The two skeletons moving in step as he capered around, striking the struggling duo as he mocked them.

"What's this lads? No layabouts on this job, Do you think the Dark Lord cares that you misplaced a few bones, eh? Walk it off you pussies, stand up and get back in the FIGHT!" he half screamed, frothing at the mouth as he brought his walking stick down on one of the downed men before returning to his dance.

Fortunately that scene was enough of an attention grabber that Tom managed slipped back into his train car and, with a flurry of light spells, swapped himself over to his younger self. With a grunt, he shrunk and shoved the doll back into the backpack he had brought.

With a sigh, Tom grabbed the book his simulacrum had been reading and frowned before glancing around again, he could have sworn he had left it reading the first year primer, how in the devil had the blasted thing gotten hold of a copy of a Communist Manifesto?

Holding his hand out the window, Tom lit the booklet on fire and let it be consumed before dusting his hand off and sitting back down on the bench seat. One thing that both he and his old self agreed on was that the ideal of communism was far too easy to abuse.

Several minutes later, the last call for the train was made and the massive engine pulled out of the station.

As one of the twenty one great magical creations of the world, the Hogwarts Express was the only way those first attending the magical school could find their way to the unplottable castle. Anything else was doomed to fail as it required either a personal invitation by the Headmaster, a commision of intent by the assembled board of directors or a direct order by the sitting minister of magic.

Certain other great magics could be used to traverse the forbidden forests or cross the mountains, but even the hardiest of adventurers were loathe to try their hand at such a journey.

Listening in as the students whispered and gossiped about the attack on the station, Tom let his mind wander.

Even as a disembodied spirit he had been hard pressed to make his way through the thick forest during his last life. And while it had been easier, once he had permission from the minister after the coup, he had still lost nearly a tenth of his forces before he had even gotten into sight of the castle.

It had only been by a stroke of luck that he had been discovered by Quirrell, after the man had been moved from his position as the Muggle Studies professor and shifted to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Shaking his head at the thought of the puppet he had used before, Tom wondered if he would see him at Hogwarts. Oddly enough, he realized that a good many people he had seen and used would be attending. Hopefully he could skim the cream from the top to help his plans along in the coming years.

Leaning his head back, Tom let the rhythmic rocking of the train lull him to sleep.

* * *

Stepping off the train, Tom smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. The old, electric energy of excitement that he had always felt when he was at Hogwarts was back and he could almost swear he could hear a soft song playing just at the edge of his hearing.

Of course he had been back at Hogwarts several times since his seventh year, but none of those times had felt like this. He had been entering as a trickster to curse an artifact, as a wraith damned and dying and as a conqueror attempting to destroy that which he had once truly loved.

But now, now he was truly back.

"First Years! First Years This Way!"

Turning towards the big man standing near the end of the train, Tom felt a small pang of guilt over what he had done to the half giant. Cursing his new found empathy, Tom made a mental note to fix that at some point, as well as dealing with the Basilisk.

He wasn't entire sure if he was planning to fix his past wrong on the part of Hagrid or his Empathy but either way something needed to be resolved.

Stepping over with the other children, Tom stood in line with and waited as the larger man explained what they were about to do and what was expected of them on the trip over.

For a moment, Tom wondered why the man was still talking as he was sure Hagrid was going to repeat the same thing in a minute when they got down to the boats, his inner musing was cut off as a pair of red faced eleven year olds joined the group, their uniforms rumpled and rubbing sleep out of their eyes.

With a nod, Hagrid finished up his little speech, having happily halted everyone's journey so the two wouldn't be lost before the massive man turned towards the path.

Taking his steps down the thin cobbled path, Tom could feel the stones shifting beneath his feet to assure he kept his feet in the dark as he and the rest of the children followed the lantern Hagrid was holding up. The first time he had been here, Tom had been a stumbling mess, just like the rest of the children back then and like the majority of the children today.

Rolling his eyes at the idiocy of nobody explaining the situation, the dark haired, ex-dark lord nudged the child next to him and nodded towards their feet. "It's Magic," he whispered before giving the child a smile and shrugging "Don't try to see where you're stepping, just trust it to be there."

For a moment the youngster seemed to flip-flop between looking at him like he was crazy and looking back down at his feet before something seemed to click in the youngster's mind. He realized that even when he was staring, his feet seemed to firmly plant themselves in the correct places as he walked.

Tom blinked as the hissed whispers of his words seemed to ripple up and down the collection of children before Hagrid seemed to take notice and turned to walk backwards down the slick stone path without concern. "Aye, the old Headmaster, Heliotrope Wilkins enchanted the path to make it easy to walk on, no matter the weather and to make the trip easier for the young'uns as it is several miles between the village of Hogsmead and the boats. The story goes that it was so long back in the day that many a new student missed the opening feast and their first day of class entirely," the big man explained jovially to one of the children that had braved to question him about the path.

As the children stared about at the rough hewn path with new found awe, Tom could see their minds begin to fill with questions and wonder. After all, how magical must the castle itself be if even the path was enchanted in such a way.

The answer, of course, was overwhelming. Taking the last curve in the path itself, Tom laid eyes on the castle for the first time all over again, seven stories tall and brimming with ambient magic that called to his senses and whispered about the wonders that could be found within. For a brief moment, Tom found himself once more simply standing in awe of the sight and having to remind himself to breathe.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Tom glanced around as the other children worked their way out of the stupor the presence of the magical fortress had caused.

"Now that's it, right? Your first sight of Hogwarts, always brings a tear to my eye to see it. I remember me own first sight of 'er not so many years ago myself," Hagrid said, more to himself than to anyone else. Still, his deep voice had the effect of breaking the few remaining stunned students out of their stupors.

With eyes far older and more cunning than his past self though, Tom could see the subtle machinations that were going on; Diagon Alley and getting their wand was amazing, the train ride had been exciting, but this, this was a moment of powerful revelation for the young children surrounding him. A moment orchestrated to where each of them were already casting aside the mundane world and swearing themselves to magic, how could they not? Steeped in ceremony and tradition a thousand years old, these children had just become a part of something greater and grander and more terrible than themselves.

Magic, more ancient and dread than any he had seen, now stood bare before him an ancient dragon carved from the stone of the earth itself and bound to protect the hatchlings it saw in each and every one of the students. He couldn't conceive how he had missed it the first time other than by sheer ignorance and possibly hubris.

"Four to a boat now and let's get you all in for the feast."

At the boisterous call from the friendly half giant, Tom shook the epiphany off and ignoring the cold chill that worked its way down his spine, he gave a mental laugh at his overly dramatic imagination. Taking Hagrid's words to heart, he joined three others in one of the small, paddle-less row boats that would take them across the lake.

In short order, Tom stood before the doors of the great hall once more as Minerva McGonagall explained the different houses and the responsibilities they had to each. In his place off to the side, Tom carefully put the finishing touches on his mental landscape. His years as a legilimens and occlumens serving him well, he crafted one of the finest mental defenses he had ever seen.

And then he was back in the great hall, staring at the old piece of fabric as it sang about the merits of each house in turn before the stern face of Minerva McGonagall began to read off the roll and escort the children up to the hat in turn.

And then he found himself sitting on the stool with the hat well and truly covering his head and with a brief pulse all of his carefully hidden secrets were laid bare.

"Ah, it's good to see again, Mr. Riddle, and welcome back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

* * *

(A/n) Surprisingly enough, this story lends itself to longer chapters than most of my others… Hopefully that will continue.

One of the more annoying Fanon things I've run into is people assuming Quirrell had Voldemort attached to the back of his skull when he got the job of Teacher, this is not true, Quirrell had been a teacher for 'Some Time' as a Muggle Studies professor, but was known as a prodigy in DADA. Though timid, he was actually surprisingly strong. He took the summer to go out and find the Shade of the dark lord so people would take him seriously, (Everything else he had done had been theoretical up to that point.) after being beaten by the shade and being spared because he was a teacher in Hogwarts he had led Voldemort back to the castle, but he had not had the head attached to his own until after the failed break-in of Gringotts at the start of term, even then Voldemort claimed that he had been resisting, and yes, yes I know he refused to shake Harry's hand in the tavern so he must have.. Blah… Blah… Blah… if Quirrell or Voldemort had known about the 'OH GOD IT BURNS' touch back in the beginning of the book they would have been far less surprised by the 'OH GOD IT BURNS' touch at the end of it (Also he did shake Harry's hand in the book.) .


	3. The Grey Man - Sorting things out

Hatred boiled in his veins, pure unadulterated rage washed like the waves of an incoming tide at his soul. A dark seething mass of frothing anger filled him to bursting as he stomped through the dark woods of the forest of Dean and thought back to the night before.

* * *

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Tom tried to settle his anger at the indignity of it all. Him, in Hufflepuff, HIM! And the worst part was that he couldn't even argue the decision as he was putting considerable effort into killing a dark lord out of a feeling of familial loyalty.

Reaching the top of the rise, Tom took a moment to glance up at the sliver of moon that looked down on him before he quickly bypassed the shoddy alarm ward placed there and glanced down at the crude facility that he remembered as a training ground created and run by one of the Knights of Walpurgis. Avery had been extremely useful in his last lifetime for his skill in training Death Eaters into a fighting force, a talent he had missed on his second rise to power.

The one time dark lord made a mental note that if he should ever get around to contaminating any founder's relics this time around he would use the hat as a chamber pot liner.

With a wave of his wand Tom conjured a half dozen cylinders roughly the same size as a muggle chemical drum. A quick bit of spell work and the solid steel rolls were charmed to be unbreakable and had a charm originally designed for Quidditch carved into them to reduce friction next to his personal summoning rune.

Checking his work with a critical eye Tom nodded before dropping the six small bronze Knutz on the six one and a half ton chunks of metal disappeared. They wouldn't last long but they, honestly enough, didn't need to.

Checking that everything was secure, Tom disillusioned and silenced himself and strode into the Death Eater camp. He had once done this almost daily, his old self had enjoyed moving unseen through his forces and listening to the gossip, it had helped to cultivate the aura of omniscience that he enjoyed with his followers. Now he used it for a far darker purpose..

Shifting around the guards, wards, alarms and traps set up around the camp, Tom ghosted through his onetime followers until he reached the center of the camp.

Pointing his wand skyward, Tom let his mind and magic reach out until far, far away he felt the tingle of his own personal summing charms. "Accio Death." He whispered before apparating out of the camp, the wards he had originally set up in camps such as this one had been designed to keep people from showing up unexpectedly, he had been less interested in his followers leaving.

Behind him the camp continued on, the summoning charm and minor apparition being so common that it didn't even raise an eyebrow amongst the revelry and noise.

Reaching the edge of the wardline, Tom apparated away. He then apparated several more times before taking a deep breath and turning to watch the camp from several miles away.

Seven minutes after the summoning charm was cast Tom stood atop a rise and watched as the camp disappeared in a flash of light and fire, the rumble of the explosion crept up his legs for a moment before the shockwave hit him, the wave of pressure and sound whipping past as this part of the world experienced its first kinetic bombardment.

He had discovered the theory of orbital portkeys buried deep in the department of mysteries after taking the ministry the last time. A prototype portkey had successfully dropped an unspeakable off in orbit for several seconds before the man had been returned.

That success had been ignored by his old self. However, his recent time spent in the tender mercies of Lily Potter had introduced the one time dark lord to the writings of a man by the name of Heinlein, his reading of the fictional lunar revolution had sparked an idea in his mind and now he was seeing the results of that particular event.

Six one and a half ton cylinders, charmed to be impervious and frictionless, summoned from orbit and accelerated to seven thousand five hundred miles an hour had each struck with the force of ten tons of muggle dynamite each.

The result was a blasted hellscape that had once been a training ground for the Knights of Walpurgis. With a smirk, Tom activated his own portkey and was whisked away. Behind him the last bit of magic leached out of the conjured metal causing the weapons to fade away and leave no evidence of what had caused the destruction.

In the end, it was as if some vengeful god had reached down and smote the Death Eaters in a biblical rage.

* * *

The walk up the path to Hogwarts had Tom rub his eyes tiredly. He had spent far too long at the Hog's Head in his Grey Man disguise, carefully avoiding drinking any of the swill Aberforth had served him as he spoke in carefully chosen volumes with an officer from the department of muggle worthy excuses about the 'underground gas field' that had exploded down south earlier that night and how they didn't have any idea on what could have possibly caused it.

Shaking his head at the idiot death eater wannabe's that had scurried from the room to report to their lord on what they had learned, Tom stopped at the gate and took a deep breath.

"Tom."

Glancing at the old wizard that stood in the cool night air Tom sighed "The training camp is gone, no survivors," he declared simply.

For a moment, Tom felt Dumbledore's gaze linger on him before the headmaster turned back towards the school and walked with him. "Do you regret what you have done?"

Thinking about the question, Tom shook his head in the darkness "No," he could feel the older wizards need for more than that before he pressed on, "I regret that it was necessary, the loss of so much magical blood is a shame. That being said it was necessary, we both know that, so I have no regrets in doing it."

He could see Dumbledore nod sadly beside him as the old man thought back on his own actions during the war with his onetime friend so many years before.

Entering the castle, Dumbledore seemed to gain some measure of strength as he turned to the time displaced Ex-Dark Lord, "Well, I shall leave you to get some sleep. You have a full class tomorrow and I suggest you be well rested for it."

Resisting the urge to scowl at the thought of classes after getting such little sleep, Tom gave a half bow before he left for his room and cursed the hat, Dumbledore, time travel and his old self all in one breath as he thought back to the end of the Hogwarts sorting.

* * *

Lifting the hat from on top of his head, Tom frowned slightly at the nearly empty great hall. Only himself, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick occupied the massive room.

"You made a mistake coming here Tom, this school is under my protection," the aged Wizard declared and Tom gulped as he could feel his one time nemesis pull magic in from the very stones of the castle.

Blinking at the statement, Tom sighed and carefully let the hat slide back down over his face and sat there as he felt the magic swirl around him for several seconds before it slowly settled down as the trio of magicals calmed down slightly from their combat state.

"Are you going to come out from under the hat?"

Pushing the artifact up so he could look at them, Tom carefully gauged their readiness to commit bodily harm on him before he pushed the hat further up his head. "Are you going to give me a chance to talk? Or will you jump straight to the hurting and screaming portion of the evening?"

Glancing between each other, the trio seemed to have a silent conversation before the two males lowered their wands leaving McGonagall as the sole combatant at the ready if he should attack.

Taking that as the best he was likely to get, Tom pushed the hat off is head and set it to the side before he leaned forward on the stool and sighed. "What can I help you with Headmaster?"

"Perhaps you can start with telling us where Tom Potter is? Be aware that while I would like to see the boy returned safely I am unwilling to barter your safety for his," Dumbledore said with a growl as Tom sighed again and shot a dark look at the hat that had gotten him into this position.

"I am Tom Potter, adopted to Lily and James Potter and brother to Harry Potter," he explained before shrugging at their incredulous looks. "I would swear a wizard's oath to that effect, but I get the feeling you are a tad wand shy at the moment." he said with a smile before shaking his head. "I was also once Tom Riddle, the self-appointed Lord Voldemort." he declared and rolled his eyes as Flitwick raised his wand again in response to the name even as the headmaster nodded in easy acceptance of this fact.

"And yet you are here and he is not, so what happened?"

"In simplest terms, I lost." he growled before slumping in the stool and shaking his head. "Lost to a child of all things, But in losing I was finally made whole, for the first time since my fifth year in these halls I was complete."

Glancing at the three Tom shrugged, "I admit that I made several attempts to defeat death, one of the first ones left me… twisted, like a dark reflection stripped away of anything that might have been good," he said with a snarl of rage at the way his mind and soul had been shattered by the Horcrux. "For some reason the warnings on that particular bit of foul magic had the warnings written down after the spell itself."

Tom hated the idiocy of that particular author, the accidental death of Myrtle Warren during his fifth year attempt to control the beast was the last moment he had as myself, after that moment everything was like a waking nightmare, "I knew what I was doing and even the thoughts behind it, but it was as if someone else was in control."

"The first law of magic warns of such." Dumbledore said with authority as he quoted said law, "Tamper with the deepest mysteries, the source of life, the essence of self, only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind." to cheat death itself is said to cost you your life in turn.

"I can wholeheartedly agree with that particular law." he snapped before running his hands through his hair and sighing again. "After performing that particularly vile deed I descended into deeper and darker magics, the twisted mind within me even managing to dig up one of Harpo the fouls lost rituals, a particularly vile piece of magic known as 'viasmós tou Horae' the 'rape of the time' which would send one back through time to their most pivotal moment, now for me I was quite sure I would end up standing in the orphanage as you handed me my letter."

"I see that didn't happen?"

Glaring at the old man Tom snorted and shook his head "No, unfortunately the scattered remnants of the spell had little to say about what happened when your attempt at time travel ran afoul of a true prophecy."

* * *

Swapping out with his Simulacra down in the Hufflepuff dorms Tom flopped into his bed with a grunt as sleep worked to claim him. He lifted his arm and glared at the bands of burning fire that locked them in place, his magical oath to Dumbledore being the only thing that had earned him some small amount of trust even after his rather fantastical story.

Still, at least Dumbledore was covering for him while he was out dealing with the Death Eaters, but the old man could have at least given him a day off after taking out one of the training camps.

* * *

(A/n) Horae was the goddess 'gang' attributed to the natural progression of time, it tended to be a fluid group that changed members throughout the ages but were set in groups of three, three, three and four which according to Arithmancy would end up with three groups of three being closed by four for thirteen across four seasons for seventeen total.

You can think and wonder on why those numbers are important and how they are similar and how they worked into the ritual as well as how a man by the name of 'Harpo the Foul' would find a way to corrupt something as natural as time with such numbers.

Needless to say this particular ritual will not be spoken of here and any attempt to replicate it will see your soul burned out by the Mageía of Greece with the fires of Olympus before even the memory of you is obliviated from the minds of the world.

This unfortunately has little use as a deterrent as nobody remembers the last guy to try and use the ritual, but the Mageía are set in their ways.

(A/n 2) Yes I had the warnings behind the spell, I found that to be perfect for something as horrible as the Horcrux.


End file.
